If Nolan wasn't mistaken, if his memory and pattern recognition were functioning properly despite the surreal horror before him, then the terrifying figure standing twenty meters tall possessed certain distinctive features he recognized.
The basic design of the blood-red leather armor, the way it fitted across the torso despite the grotesque proportions, the distinctive helmet shape now distorted beyond reason but still faintly familiar.
This had been Matt Murdock. Daredevil. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen. The blind vigilante lawyer he'd met once in what felt like another lifetime.
But now, staring up at this abomination, Nolan struggled to reconcile memory with present reality.
The creature's face was barely humanoid, blurred and empty as if obscured by thick white fog. Features existed only as suggestions, hints of what might once have been eyes, nose, mouth. Nothing distinct. Nothing that could be called human.
Across the blood-red leather armor covering the massive body, twisted faces crawled and shifted. Living human faces, dozens of them, perhaps hundreds, their expressions frozen in various stages of agony and terror. Mouths opened and closed soundlessly. Eyes rolled in their sockets, tracking movement independently. Flesh that shouldn't exist, integrated into armor that shouldn't be alive.
And from the creature's back, extending like some nightmarish fusion of organic tissue and pure shadow, dozens of massive illusory tentacles writhed continuously. Each appendage measured several meters in diameter, semi-translucent but clearly possessing physical mass, moving with obvious predatory intelligence.
This wasn't Matt Murdock. Not anymore. Whatever process had created this thing had consumed the man entirely, leaving only... this.
Questions flooded Nolan's mind unbidden. If this truly was The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, why had he become the mastermind controlling the Hand? What had transformed him into this horrific appearance? What bargain had been struck, what price paid?
Nolan couldn't find answers. The creature before him offered no explanations, just monstrous presence and implied violence.
Moreover, he didn't particularly want those answers right now. Understanding could wait. Survival came first.
"David, how long until our heavy weapons arrive?" Nolan asked, his voice processed through the Terminator armor's vox-caster as he continued advancing slowly toward the creature. Each step made the ground tremble slightly under several tons of ceramite plate and reinforced systems. "Facing a target this large, the gang dogs' laser weapons alone won't be sufficient to guarantee termination."
David's mechanical voice crackled through the comm system immediately, carrying urgent information. "My Lord, three minutes! The moment the target manifested, I transmitted notification to Raditus. Automatic cargo drones responsible for transporting heavy weapons are currently en route. You only need to maintain engagement for three minutes!"
Nolan didn't respond verbally. Actions spoke louder than acknowledgments.
The three servo-mechanical arms mounted on his power pack's dorsal surface suddenly shifted orientation with smooth mechanical precision. Weapon barrels rotated, targeting solutions calculated, ammunition feeds verified.
The firepower array that had been prepared and ready throughout his approach erupted with deafening roars. Bolt rounds, each one a miniature rocket with explosive tips, spat from the rotating barrels in sustained streams.
BOOM BOOM BOOM!
Simultaneously, the gang dog teams that had withdrawn from the immediate ruins area completed their reorganization under Bucky's shouted commands. Discipline reasserted itself quickly despite the psychological shock of facing something that defied conventional understanding.
They reoccupied elevated firing positions on surviving building structures, establishing overlapping fields of fire that covered the creature from multiple angles. No escape routes, no blind spots.
Then they opened fire.
A laser storm composed of hundreds of scorching coherent light beams lanced toward the center of the ruins, converging on the terrifying creature that had remained motionless since its emergence. Blue and red beams layered over each other until they became a solid wall of destructive energy.
WHOOOM WHOOOM WHOOOM!
The combined barrage struck the creature's tall body with concentrated fury. Nolan's explosive bolt rounds detonated against blood-red armor in chains of fire and shrapnel. Laser beams burned through whatever material composed the creature's form, melting and vaporizing tissue that shouldn't exist.
Massive holes appeared across the creature's torso and limbs, wounds that should have been immediately fatal. But instead of blood or organs or bone, only wisps of black smoke flowed from the damage. Thick streams of darkness that poured like liquid shadow, as if the creature possessed no flesh and blood structure whatsoever. It was smoke given shape, darkness made manifest.
Then the twisted human faces embedded in the blood-colored leather armor suddenly opened their mouths in perfect synchronization.
The scream that emerged transcended sound, became something that existed as much as physical force as audio stimulus. A terrifying wail that resonated throughout Staten Island, carrying for kilometers in all directions, rattling windows and setting off car alarms in neighborhoods far from the battle.
Invisible sound waves radiated outward with devastating effect. The air itself became weapon, vibrations powerful enough to liquefy organs and rupture eardrums.
Several kilometers distant, gang elites without enhanced physiology or protective equipment screamed and collapsed where they stood. Blood poured from their ears and noses as pressure differentials destroyed delicate tissues. Some would be permanently deaf. Others might not survive at all.
The gang dog teams closest to the creature, still maintaining sustained laser fire despite the assault, suffered even more catastrophic effects. The enhanced soldiers' superior constitution meant they remained conscious when baseline humans would have simply died, which paradoxically made the torture worse.
Nearly all the tall figures wearing gray carapace armor dropped to one knee, then both knees, struggling to remain upright through sheer determination. Their helmets' audio dampeners helped, but couldn't completely negate sonic force operating at these frequencies and amplitudes.
But even those who fell to prone positions, even those whose nervous systems were shutting down from sensory overload...
Their laser weapons never wavered. Fingers remained locked on triggers. Beams continued burning into the creature's form with unwavering precision.
CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
At that moment, accompanied by sounds of ruins gradually collapsing under sustained punishment, Nolan wearing his Terminator armor stepped onto the rubble field and suddenly launched himself upward. Enhanced servo-motors provided explosive acceleration, propelling several tons of armored warrior into the air.
He landed atop the highest point of the layered ruins, ceramite boots crushing debris beneath his weight. His firepower array continued pouring explosive bolt rounds into the creature at nearly point-blank range now.
Then he charged forward, the C'tan Phase Sword raised high in both gauntleted hands. Green eldritch light painted everything around him in sickly illumination that hurt to look at directly.
BOOM BOOM BOOM!
The explosive bolt rounds detonating at close range created a sustained barrage that actually made the creature's huge body tilt backward. Balance disrupted, mass shifting despite its size. Even the countless twisted faces across the blood-colored leather armor that had been screaming ceased their wailing, mouths snapping shut as if concentration was required for remaining upright.
Nolan pressed his advantage ruthlessly. His C'tan Phase Sword descended in a perfect arc toward the creature's leg joints, targeting the knee structure where biomechanical stress concentrated.
The blade that could cut through reality itself was moments from severing the limb entirely.
Then the illusory tentacles extending from the creature's spine moved with frightening speed. They descended like falling hammers, multiple appendages converging on Nolan's position simultaneously.
WHAM!
The tentacles struck with devastating force, not just stopping Nolan's sword strike but physically driving him backward. The impact transmitted through his armor's systems, warning runes flashing across his helmet display.
Simultaneously, the repeated hammering from multiple tentacles provided the leverage the creature needed. Its massive body, which had been tilting dangerously toward collapse, suddenly stabilized. Muscles that shouldn't exist flexed. Balance restored itself.
The creature was recovering, adapting, learning.
The C'tan Phase Sword in Nolan's gauntleted hands became a blur of motion. He swung the blade so rapidly it created interlocking patterns of green light, nearly impossible to track with naked eyes. Each strike severed an illusory tentacle attempting to crush or entangle him.
The terrifying weapon cut through the semi-physical appendages like they were paper. Tentacles fell away in sections, dismembered with surgical precision.
But every severed tentacle, rather than remaining as debris, immediately transformed back into wisps of strange black smoke. The darkness floated upward like reverse gravity, gathering on the blood-colored leather armor covering the creature's body.
The twisted human faces opened their mouths and inhaled deeply, pulling the smoke back into themselves. Reabsorbing the lost mass, recycling the damage, making the creature whole again.
It was regenerating faster than Nolan could inflict lasting injury.
For several long seconds, the stalemate held. Nolan's power pack made continuous buzzing sounds as servo-motors operated at maximum output, providing the strength and speed needed to maintain this killing pace. He kept swinging the C'tan Phase Sword, desperately trying to close distance with the creature's main body where more permanent damage might be possible.
Meanwhile, the creature steadily absorbed more black smoke. Its recovery accelerated with each passing moment, the process becoming more efficient as if learning how to heal itself more effectively.
The huge body that had been frozen in defensive posture began showing signs of genuine mobility. Limbs flexed experimentally. Joints rotated through full range of motion. The creature was regaining combat capability.
Then, without warning, one massive foot suddenly tore free from the ruins where it had been planted. The limb rose high, debris cascading from its surface, and descended toward Nolan's position with terrifying whistling sound.
CRASH!
Countless ruin fragments blocking the foot's path simply disintegrated under the kinetic force. Concrete and rebar pulverized, sent flying in all directions like shrapnel from a bomb.
Nolan, who'd just severed another illusory tentacle, had no time to properly dodge. The attack came too fast, committed too much mass too quickly.
He could only activate the refractor field defensively, trusting the Terminator armor's legendary durability to withstand the impact.
BOOM!
The sound of the collision was like a bomb detonating. The invisible refractor field rippled violently, energy barriers flaring to visible luminescence as they absorbed impossible force.
Then, despite several tons of weight and magnetically locked boots, the Terminator armor flew backward like a ball struck by a giant's club.
Nolan became a projectile, traveling through the air in an uncontrolled tumble.
CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
His armored form smashed through the heavy walls of multiple ruined buildings in succession, each impact punching clean holes through reinforced concrete and steel frameworks. Debris exploded outward with each penetration. Finally, after destroying the fourth wall, his momentum bled away enough that he stopped.
Nolan shook his diamond-shaped helmet, clearing the disorientation from sustained impacts. He casually lifted building debris that had collapsed over his prone form, tossing aside concrete slabs that would have crushed vehicles.
His gauntleted hand found the C'tan Phase Sword where it had fallen nearby, still radiating its green glow. He gripped the handle tightly and slowly climbed to his feet, servo-motors whining with effort.
Inside the helmet, data streamed across his vision in urgent priority updates. Damage assessments, structural integrity reports, system diagnostics.
The Terminator armor's overall structure showed only minor damage. Impressive, considering what he'd just endured. The refractor field remained intact, power reserves still adequate.
However, the three servo-mechanical arms mounted on his power pack were sparking intermittently, electrical discharge visible even in the dim light. The firepower array they'd been operating was effectively destroyed, damaged beyond field repair.
He'd lost his primary ranged weapons. Not ideal.
"David, where are my heavy weapons?" Nolan asked, his voice flat and cold as he stared through his helmet's eyepiece at the creature in the distance.
The monster was fully mobile now, its giant hands and feet moving with increasing confidence. Behind its back, illusory tentacles danced in hypnotic patterns, searching for new targets.
Buzz buzz buzz...
The answer came not from David but from the night sky above. The roar of engines, high-pitched whines of overworked anti-gravity systems operating at maximum output.
Nolan reflexively looked up, tilting his diamond helmet skyward.
Four automatic cargo drones materialized from the darkness, their running lights creating constellation patterns against the smoke-filled sky. They struggled visibly with their cargo, listing slightly to one side, engines straining.
Between them, suspended on heavy-duty cables, hung a giant laser cannon. The weapon's barrel measured nearly two and a half meters in length, its diameter suggesting it could accommodate a human head. The entire assembly was clearly not designed for infantry use, probably stripped from some vehicle mounting or fortification emplacement.
The drones descended rapidly, barely maintaining control. They reached ground level and simply released their cargo, unable to manage a gentle landing.
CRASH!
The giant laser cannon hit the ground with tremendous force, its mass creating a small crater. The impact sent shockwaves through the earth, kicking up clouds of dust.
Nolan, wearing his Terminator armor, broke into a full sprint. Several tons of armored warrior accelerated with shocking speed, servo-motors screaming as they pushed beyond standard operating parameters. He covered the distance to the weapon in seconds.
Electro-fiber bundles contracted with violent buzzing sounds. Servo-devices in the armor's arms and back engaged at maximum power output, hydraulics hissing as they redirected pressure.
Nolan reached down and gripped the giant laser cannon. Then, impossibly, defying conventional physics and human limitations, he lifted the massive weapon.
The Terminator armor's enhanced strength, combined with his own post-human physiology, allowed him to raise the cannon that should have required a vehicle mounting. He shifted his stance, settling the weapon's weight across his shoulders, using the armor's frame to distribute load.
He stared at the terrifying monster slowly advancing toward him, tentacles writhing, twisted faces beginning to open their mouths for another sonic assault.
Hidden beneath his diamond helmet, Nolan's lips pulled back from his fangs in a vicious smile. The expression was feral, predatory, eager.
"First prototype of the Lascannon for the Hellhammer," he announced, his vox-caster amplifying the words across the battlefield. His finger found the firing stud, applying pressure. "Let me invite you to experience what it feels like to have your face washed with concentrated laser fire!"
The weapon began charging, building toward discharge, a rising whine that promised apocalyptic violence.